Clueless
by salianne
Summary: Nick thought he knew until he understood that he didn't have a clue.


Title: Clueless

Author: Salianne

Pairing: Greg/Nick

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Nick thought he knew until he understood that he didn't have a clue.

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Just for fun.

Warning: Slash. Angst. Slightly spoilery here and there.

He had been here a thousand times - or so it seemed. He knew every detail of the place - the chipped paint on the left side of the door knob, the way he had to push a little hard to get the deadbolt to slide into place, the way the hardwood floor was just a little more worn in the center of the long hallway that led to the bedroom that smelled like the hottest sex he had ever had in his entire life.

The bedroom that smelled like Greg.

He had made this walk so often he didn't need to turn on a light to find his way. It was instinctual. It was like breathing. He can't even remember when he ended up with a key to the condo he had just walked through to reach his destination.

To reach his burning need.

Greg.

The key he had been gifted so long ago made this weekly journey to release his desire - his need - so much easier. The convenience was something he appreciated. It was one of the many things that made Greg such an undeniably important component to his daily survival.

There were just some days he needed to fuck away his frustrations and Greg always let him do whatever he needed to meet that need. Anything. Everything. Greg was always ready and willing and more than enthusiastic.

Sometimes he felt a little guilty when his needs left Greg a little sore and on a few occasions a little bloody. But then Greg would look at him, smile sweetly, and touch his face before saying - _everyone likes it a little rough sometimes_.

It was always the nights - afternoons - whatever - after an aggressive, hard and fast fuck with Greg Sanders that Nick slept the deepest. Blessedly dreamless. He woke up refreshed and vibrant and free from the dark, heavy burden of death and fear and inhumanity that he waded through every day for hours on end.

He couldn't deny it - he needed Greg - well Greg's body anyway - to keep himself from drowning in it all. Greg reminded him that despite his day to day experiences with the darkest corners of the society - most of the world was bright and alive.

Catherine was wrong. He didn't need to talk about his feelings - he just needed _**this**_.

As Nick entered into the room that smelled of Greg and all of the sexually depraved acts his friend would allow him to do to cure his night from hell at work, he stopped short when he saw the last thing he had expected.

Greg was crying,

He crossed the room without thinking and fell to his knees in front of the bed - forcing the slim man to look at him. He was shocked by the vacant look in Greg's red-rimmed eyes. While he knew Greg was no longer the jokester he used to be, he had never, ever seen the man look so...lost.

"Greg?"

The tears seemed to double in intensity when Greg heard his voice. He could feel Greg's body quaking beneath his palms which were now resting on Greg's thighs.

"Greg? Shit, Greg what the fuck is wrong?"

He grasped the back of Greg's neck and squeezed in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "Talk to me, G."

He felt Greg's hands on his shoulders - slowly sliding down his chest until his fingers curled into tight fists clutching the soft fabric of his t-shirt in a desperate hold.

"Rough night?" He asked while he stroked Greg's jaw gently with the thumb of the hand that still held Greg by the neck.

Greg nodded with wide eyes and seemed to beg - but for what Nick didn't know.

"Hey..." He tried to soothe with his tone. "...it's cool, G. I get it. We don't have to do this today..."

"NO!" Greg interrupted him, his fist gripped tighter onto Nick shirt.

"Greg. Really. It's fine..."

"No. Nick, please." Greg seemed to be struggling to find words. Something Nick rarely saw his friend do - Greg was never, ever at a loss for words. "Please...I need...I mean...god..."

"G, what is it. Please talk to me." He was starting to worry.

"I...don't go...please, Nick. Make love to me. I need you." Greg's tears were flowing like a river now.

_He __**needs**__ me?_ Nick could feel his chest constricting and he almost felt as if he couldn't breathe. _Love?_ It was confusing and felt like a betrayal. _Love? What the hell does love have to do with any of this?_

Love was never part of the deal. They fucked to feel better and it always worked. He never once told Greg he loved him. Not once. He never even insinuated it. Hell, he usually didn't stick around for more than an hour. Most of the time he got off and dressed and left before Greg got his breathing back to normal.

_Love?_

"Um..." He wasn't sure how to get out of this. He wasn't sure how to explain it to Greg. He thought it was all understood. There would never be anything close to _love-making _between them. He wasn't about to stick around and give the impression that love had ANYTHING to do with this little arrangement. _No way._ "...I gotta go, G. Try to get some sleep. You'll feel better after a good afternoon of sleep."

With a squeeze to Greg's neck, he pulled himself free from Greg's clinging fingers and stood. He brushed his fingers through Greg's damp hair before turning to leave. "See you tonight, G. Get some rest."

The drive home gave him time to think it through a little. A big part of him felt guilty for walking away from a friend who was in such obvious distress. He tried to convince himself that he was only being fair - he certainly didn't want to lead Greg on.

Though deep down - underneath his denial - he knew the truth.

The truth was that he DID feel - _something_. Was it love? Maybe. But he was terrified to find out.

Love meant risk.

He had had enough risk for one lifetime. There was no way he was going to fall in love - _fucking LOVE_ - with Greg Sanders. The man had been blown up - almost TWICE - and beaten to within an inch of his life. There were countless other close calls he was not willing to think about but it all definitely made Greg Sanders and love impossible to even consider.

Ever.

By the time he pulled into his own driveway he had allowed himself to think it through - to think about and quickly deny the REAL truth and the REAL reason he ran like a cowardly pussy when he realized that Greg loved - _fucking LOVED_ - him.

The truth.

It wasn't just fucking that he enjoyed with Greg. He enjoyed everything. He always felt safer when he and Greg worked a scene together. He always felt a bit happier when Greg joined him for breakfast or an afternoon at a game - always with others though, never alone. Ever. He couldn't deny that if it weren't for Greg he would have completely fallen apart when Warrick...after..._I can't even think about that._

One smile from Greg - even back in the days he was sequestered in the DNA lab - just one smile and his day was just...better. It had always been that way. Every close call - whether it be an explosion or a mob - scared the fucking shit out of him. Just the thought a going one day without a smile or a whiff of that Greg-smell made his chest ache to the point of physical distress.

Who was he kidding?

He **_had_** fallen in love with Greg - _**years**_ ago.

Not that he allowed himself to get anywhere near that reality in the front of his mind.

And there was no way he would ever fuck Greg Sanders again. He wouldn't allow his closely guarded and fiercely denied feelings mix with the stress relieving sex he and Greg had been indulging in together.

No way was he going to risk losing someone he loved - _wait _- _**he**__ loves __**me**__. I don't love him._

_Whatever._

_No fucking way._

He fell into bed feeling confident with the compartments he had constructed for himself and he assured himself that once he explained it to Greg they would easily remain friends without the added benefits they had enjoyed for the last few years.

_Years? Fuck._

When did that sneak up on him?

He finally succumbed to exhaustion - 30 minutes before his alarm went off.

_Fuck._

He didn't see Greg's car when he pulled into the parking lot and audibly sighed with relief. The sound of it shamed him. He trudged into the lab hoping he could avoid Greg long enough to get his ass into the field. At least he knew they wouldn't be paired up since he was still working on his case with Sara from the day before. He had never been more thankful for a messy scene with multiple donors and sloppy, careless first-responders. _It will take us a week to untangle it all._

He quickly donned his gear and headed out to meet Sara at the scene. He noted that Greg's car still wasn't there when he left. He couldn't stop the twist in his gut when he wondered why. Though there wasn't much mystery involved - he knew exactly why.

Half way to the scene his phone rang.

"Stokes."

It was Catherine.

"Hey Nicky." She sounded terse. "I need you to go to a 419 at the Bellagio."

"Sara's waiting for me..."

"I know, Nick." She interrupted. "I already called her to let her know. You're both on your own tonight. Langston is still on leave and Sander's called in sick, so there's not much I can do about it."

_Oh shit._ "Bellagio it is. On my way." _Greg called in sick. Not good._

_Not good at all._

_Fuck._

He couldn't stop thinking about it. About Greg. About how he just left him there - sad and needy and...alone. He couldn't help feeling responsible that they were a CSI short for the night. He couldn't help feeling guilty that he was the reason Greg couldn't drag his ass into work.

_I never even gave him a chance to tell me what was wrong. _

_God._

Guilt gnawed at his soul all night. It wasn't like him to just abandon a friend who so obviously needed comfort. He was confused by his own behavior. Sort of. Underneath it all he got it. He understood perfectly.

Greg needed him in the scariest way possible.

Greg needed to feel loved.

By him.

The pressure of it was overwhelming.

And exhilarating.

At the same time.

Which was terrifying.

It just wasn't something he could do. He had decided. He had stayed up all fucking night to figure it out...it was final.

_No love._

_Nope._

_Greg will understand._

Fourteen hours later he found himself leaning against the cool metal of his locker, eyes closed and head tilted toward the ceiling. He didn't hear the rustle of fabric as someone entered the room until he was startled by the tired voice of his boss.

"It's been a long shift, Nicky. Go home."

He looked at Catherine and nodded. "Only if you go too. It's been just as long for you."

"I'm already gone, Nicky." She smiled.

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Did Greg say what's...why he...is he okay?"

Catherine looked at him curiously for a minute before speaking. "He didn't really need to, Nick. Especially after his last shift. I honestly thought he was going to lose it so I sent him home early."

"Lose it?" Nick felt the burning shame flame up inside of him. He shouldn't have to ask his next question - if he were any kind of friend. "What happened?"

"Seriously?" Catherine's brow peaked over one eye. "Well...on top of the building stress of the last couple of months..." She used her fingers to count each issue Greg was facing as she continued. "...nearly losing you and Langston in one damn day, then getting nearly blown to bits and hearing about you tangled up in another gun battle - not to mention the stress that comes from having his identity stolen - he ended the night looking at a bathtub full of floating infants at that day care multiple. It was just...I guess it was the proverbial last straw for his wounded camel."

He couldn't stop the acid from boiling up into his throat. "Oh god..I didn't know." He was shocked by the whisper of his voice.

Catherine rubbed his arm soothingly. "We've all had a rough few weeks, Nicky. You can't expect to know everything that goes on with everyone else's cases all the time. He'll be okay. He just needs a little TLC. I'm sure he's tapped into his support system."

He couldn't speak around the lump in his throat. He felt Catherine's hand patting his shoulder. "Go home, Nicky. Get some sleep and stop worrying about other people's problems. You've got enough of your own."

He nodded and struggled to control his half-sob-half-laugh at the thought of how clueless she was. She thought he was overly concerned with his friend - to the point of his own detriment - when in actuality he had treated Greg with such heartless apathy.

_Greg._

The man who had selflessly given comfort - given himself - body and soul - literally. For _years_. Greg always made sure to take care of him, to make sure he was okay. He never asked for much in return. Sure there were those awkward moments when Greg would grip onto his arm as he tried to leave - asking without asking for something more than an orgasm and a thoughtless 'see ya later' before he walked out the door. There were those stolen glances from the man he left alone in a messy, sticky bed - glassy eyes that he chose to ignore and define as afterglow instead obvious pain and longing.

How many times had Greg suggested they go to a movie - dinner - just sit and watch DVDs or play video games? How may times had Greg tried to make it about more than just fucking? How many times had he shut Greg's down - _shut him up_ - with a sloppy kiss and wandering fingers?

He slammed his head into the locker behind him and the pain from the metal against his skull seemed to unlock something inside of him. He suddenly and without any confusion or regret accepted his _**own **_cluelessness and decided to finally allow himself to feel everything he had been denying - everything he had been rejecting about his own growing feelings by rejecting Greg's not-so-subtle attempts to inject love into what they had been doing together.

He decided to risk it.

_I - love - Greg._

_Oh god I love him._

_**He **_suddenly needed to be what _**Greg**_ wanted.

Because Greg deserved it.

And so did he.

He found himself crying as he drove to Greg's condo.

He cried for Greg.

He had been cruel. He had been heartless and cold. He had used a kind, loving man. A man he finally admitted, to himself anyway, he had loved for so long.

_How could I be so stupid for so long._

_Why would Greg even consider me after everything I've done?_

_Why should he?_

_At least he'll know. I can give him that much. He deserves to know that he's loved and deserving._

_He deserves to know that I cherish him._

_He deserves to know that if I could go back in time I would have made it clear that it was love...every single time...,Greg is love. _

_I love him._

"Wow." He whispered to no one.

He knocked and rang the doorbell for ten minutes before he resorted to using his key. He found Greg sitting in his dark bedroom, crumpled sheets and pillows all around him in the bed that still smelled faintly of sex and sweat and coconut body wash. He took off his boots and climbed onto the bed. Once he was sitting cross-legged facing his lover he took a deep breath. "Hey, G."

Greg didn't look at him and it felt like a stab in his heart. He reached for Greg's hand and felt grateful that Greg allowed the touch. "Cath told me about your case, G. I'm so sorry I..."

"S'okay" Greg shrugged. His voice was so small. Vulnerable. Heartbroken and lonely. "Just needed a little break."

"Yeah." He wasn't sure where to go from here. He couldn't even get the man to look at him. "You needed me, too. I'm sorry, G."

"Not your job..." Greg shrugged again.

It was killing him.

"Not your job either, G. But you always take care of me anyway."

That finally got Greg to look at him. His eyes were ringed in dark bruises from exhaustion and grief. His brows crinkled and he said in a tone that sounded like he was stating the obvious. "I love you, Nicky. So it's not a chore."

The conviction in Greg's voice nearly broke him in half. He let go of Greg's hand so he could hold Greg's face between his palms. He had never seen anyone look so devastatingly beautiful. He almost didn't recognize his own voice as he struggle to find the words that would fix this. "Greg..."

"Don't worry, Nick." Greg interrupted. "I'm okay."

"No..." He pulled Greg into his arms and relished the feeling of warmth from Greg's body. "...you're not okay, G."

He pulled Greg impossibly close while pulling their faces apart at the same time. He looked into brown, glassy eyes that were filled with pain but also edged with hope. He took this as a good sign and mustered the courage to speak from his newly unchained heart. "You've been the only thing keeping me from eating my fucking gun for years, G. No matter what - you were here and you took care of me every time I needed to be taken care of and I took and took and never really gave back. Then the one time you needed me - asked for me to give you relief and comfort - I ran away."

_Godthisishard._

"I really suck at this sharing feelings shit." He took a deep, stuttering breath. "But here goes...you scared the shit out of me, Greg. All these years I've been fooling myself. I've been convincing myself that you and I are just letting off steam. I've ignored the obvious because I was too fucking scared to admit that this is so much more. YOU are so much more. Fuck, G - how many times have I left you KNOWING you wanted, _**needed,**_ me to stay. I saw it - you needed me to stay and hold you and fall asleep and wake up with you. I needed that too but I didn't WANT to need it so I lied to myself and I lied to you and I treated you like shit for years and then yesterday I fucking left you when you were falling apart and practically begged me to hold you together and I am so - fucking - sorry..." He emphasized each of the last three words with gentle pressure on Greg's neck.

He didn't know when it started, but he was clinging to Greg and starting to sob - literally sob. At some point during his confession their roles reversed and it was **_Greg_** who was now holding _**him**_ in a comforting embrace and he was filled with shame because he was once again taking comfort from a man who was in so much need of being comforted himself. He pulled away from Greg so abruptly that Greg obviously assumed he had crossed a line he shouldn't have and he retreated into himself so quickly and completely that it literally took Nick's breath away.

He couldn't let this go on one more second. He grabbed Greg by a fist full of hair and pulled him close until he was speaking in hushed tones into Greg's lips. "No, Greg."

Even from their close proximity he could see the confusion dancing across Greg's eyes. "Greg, don't...please don't pull away. Fuck. G. I...Greg I love you."

And he kissed him.

He more than kissed him.

It wasn't a passion filled _'fuck me' _kiss or a _'you were great and thank you for rocking my world'_ kiss.

It was a kiss that said '_I love you and I'm sorry and I've been a fucking idiot and I promise never to do that again if you'll just give me a chance to get it right.'_

Yeah. That's exactly what it was.

And it felt good.

Especially when Greg kissed back and it was a _'you're forgiven'_ kiss.

Followed closely by a breathless_ 'I need to feel you inside of me'_ kiss.

And after he did exactly that - while murmuring words like _love you_ and _need you_ and _want to feel this forever_ into Greg's heated flesh and kiss-swollen lips - he held his strong, beautiful, can't-live-without-him lover in a tight embrace and made silent promises to wake up in a few hours and show Greg all over again just how much he is cherished.


End file.
